


Each Coming Morning

by PockyCat15



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Guilt, Minor Character(s), Redemption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-07-26 03:42:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7558768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PockyCat15/pseuds/PockyCat15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A spinoff of Each Coming Night by Birdteeth.</p>
<p>You realize there's a third option.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fate

**Author's Note:**

With every pedal it felt as though there were ice in your legs. Violent tremors of guilt and panic shot through your veins, and your soul was aching in it’s silent cries for it’s mate. You had already gone through the university and all its parking lots, through the frighteningly quiet corridors, and into every classroom in which you knew Sans’ had taken a class at least once. 

 

Half past ten and it was no use.

 

You couldn’t give up though, because you had determination stronger than any passion you’d felt before. Papyrus needed his brother, and Sans needed to know the truth. With those feelings surging inside you, you sped off the university grounds, and through the shopping district you two frequented most.

 

It’s a strange thing about fate, though. Thousands of philosophers could try to define it, yet no concrete meaning would ever change fate’s course.

 

That is why I will give you a quote from an otherwise unremarkable author that in this universe, you, dear (y/n), would have never come across on your own. 

 

Sometimes the slightest things change the directions of our lives, the merest breath of a circumstance, a random moment that connects like a meteorite striking the earth. Lives have swiveled and changed direction on the strength of a chance remark.

 

Perhaps it was that sneeze you let out that slowed you down by just a few seconds, or a turn of your head to check an alleyway for the skeleton you loved. Perhaps you could have done things exactly the same, and it would depend on her actions to cause fate to swerve its course. It really doesn't matter what changed your story, but as fate would have it, you screeched to a halt in front of two familiar figures.

 

“What… what are you…” 

 

You hadn't realized how winded you were after biking in the summer night heat, and you resigned to flailing your arm in an attempt to gesture, “what are you doing out here?”

 

Toriel and Frisk looked at each other in a silent communication of who was to respond. Remembering that you only had a very spare grasp on the basics of sign language, Toriel spoke first. “Papyrus called us, my child. Frisk insisted that we come out and try to help.” As she spoke, the little ambassador fished their notepad out of a worn knapsack and started writing frantically.

 

_ He would never leave Papyrus alone like this _

_ Sans is in trouble _

 

Another stab of guilt coursed through you. Of course, you were the one to blame here. Maybe if you were as good as Frisk, you'd have known better than to put his soul so close to yours in the first place. “I'm going through the park.” 

 

You stated, throwing your leg back onto the pedals. 

 

A small hand grabbed onto the belt loops of your bottoms, and you (rather flushed with exasperation) looked back at Frisk. Their eyes stayed trained on yours as if though trying to decide something. When they lowered their head back to the notepad, you could have sworn you saw a flicker of red light.

 

_ There's always another option. _

 

You had barely skimmed over the sentence before Frisk shut the notebook and took Toriel’s hand.

  
  


It wasn't too long before you were on a bridge that seemed both familiar and unfamiliar in itself. Goosebumps freckled up your arms, forcing an audible shudder from you.

 

Mosquitoes and God knows what other bugs buzzed past your ears, and you were close to turning around when your soul gave out a pulse.

 

He was here.

 

After a bit of fumbling, you turned on your flashlight, and aimed around the edge of the little lake. Secretly, you hoped that you wouldn't find anything, granted that being out here in the middle of the darkness was horrifying enough, but then you saw a familiar flash of blue.

 

“Sans! Sans, do you know what time it is? Do you know how worried you made us? How worried you made Papyrus? Quit moping around and…”

 

That's when the creature turned to face you, and you were so shocked you nearly dropped your only source of light.

 

It was a skeleton, yes, but the head was absolutely feral. In it's right eyesocket shone a flickering gold and blue iris, the pupil contracted into a slit down the middle. Down it's canine looking snout were rows upon rows of canines that tapered off into fine points that curled inwards like hooks. 

 

This was not your lover anymore, despite the fact that your soul was on the verge of coming out of your body just to be closer to him.

 

The creature that was once Sans flexed its claws as you fumbled for your phone. As soon as the screen was on, it let out a throaty growl and closed the distance, swiping forward just enough to impale your phone with one of it's claws.

 

You could just barely register the blood dripping from your open palm as two orange words materialized themselves in front of you with a magic you once heard Papyrus try to explain to you.

 

**ACT.                                                                      FIGHT.**

 

Just as fate would have it, you had kicked a fallen branch when you stepped back away from the words and from Sans’ predatory watch. As soon as it fell off the bridge and into the water, his attention was skewed and you turned to the source of the splash to see another word in magic.

  
  


**MERCY.**


	2. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A third option appeared, titled 'mercy.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *drags self in*  
> *posts this chapter and screams in agony*  
> *drags self out*
> 
> Fun fact: I have never actually finished a fic, but your constant comments fill me with determination!

Your eyes hovered on the text hovering before you. Faint orange wisps of magic fell from the lettering into the charcoal water below, creating smoldering ripples in the lake. A low growl jerked you out of the daze of the phenomenon, and you turned around to face the canine’s bared teeth just inches from you. 

 

With the contrasting glows of the orange magic, soft white moonlight, and the turquoise glare from Sans’, the little voice in the back of your mind that somehow always knew when to bring up something at the worst possible time whispered, “Aren’t those the exact colors of Van Gogh’s Sunflowers? But like, literally exact?”

 

With a delayed shriek, you jerked backwards, an act which may have just saved your life. As you stumbled, your heel came down too far back and off the bridge completely. You threw your arms out to try to break your fall, and unknowingly threw your arm through the text that read “mercy,” and again when the magic split in two between “spare” and “flee.” Your fingers just brushed against “flee” before you fell into the lake below.

 

Tell me, can you swim, dear (y/n)? Whether you can swim or drown is irrelevant, though, that was just a distraction; the water at the bridge was barely two feet deep, nothing you couldn't handle. The action caused the feral skeleton to pace between both ends of the bridge, trying to get a glimpse of where you’d gone. As you sat there with your heart in your throat, you realized that for some reason

 

_ he couldn’t sense you. _

 

Which defied all logic you knew, because there was nothing hindering him from being able to locate you with his SOUL, how yours did the second you came close to him. 

Too frightened to risk staying still under the bridge-- where there were a horrifying number of spiders facing you--, you clambered back out and up the bank. The creature let out a howl before throwing itself in the water to chase after you.

 

This is, again, where fate rests on your side, for the force that kept you afloat in the deeper parts of the lake came from your human fatty tissue, which skeletons lack.The moment Sans hit the water, his claws sunk into the mud at the bottom. 

Another roar erupted, but it could not be muffled under the water. The feral cry echoed in your soul and skull, forcing you to pause to press your hands to your temples to stop the pain.

The Sans-creature thrashed under the water, only serving to tangle it's claws further in the water weeds and mud. 

You knew better than to worry about air, as most monsters don’t rely on oxygen to sustain their magic reserves. Using this chance, you ran across the park, hoping by some miracle that you would find someone from the search party. Sadly, fate cannot rest on your side in every situation, and by the time you stopped for breath at the sidewalk bordering the park, the Sans-creature had crawled out of the lake.

  
Grass and other debris hung off his bones in wet clumps, attracting a flurry of mosquitoes to him. You could feel your chest constricting as you realized that it would surely kill you if you tried to reason with him in this state. 

To your left was the shopping district, which was already not so monster-friendly, but it would be much easier to lose him, and you knew that’s the direction Frisk and Toriel had gone. If you lost him, you could find a phone nearby and call for help, despite putting several humans in danger.

On your right was the path back home, where many monsters would be in danger, but Papyrus and Undyne would surely know how to control him. If they didn’t, then both of them could be dusted by the Sans-creature. 

Which path do you take?


End file.
